


memory of you is a blue spear of flower

by anupturnedboat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dark, Dreams and Nightmares, Hallucinations, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Mental Institutions, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Other, POV Lydia, RIP Allison Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 02:18:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4942930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anupturnedboat/pseuds/anupturnedboat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Memory of you is ... a blue spear of flower.<br/>I cannot remember the name of it.<br/>Alongside a bold dripping poppy is fire and silk.<br/>And they cover you. - Carl Sandburg “Two”</p>
<p>Lydia’s hair is coming undone and Allison is in the back seat laughing at something Scott is whispering in her ear. She doesn’t want to jinx it, but - real or not real?</p>
<p>Lydia (and Stiles) and Eichen House.  Post S5A.</p>
            </blockquote>





	memory of you is a blue spear of flower

1.

School is almost over, they are cutting, but it’s ok, they are ahead for once.

The sun pours through the open windows of Stiles’ jeep, and her favorite song is on the radio. The one that reminds her of Allison. Stiles turns it up. Lydia’s hair is coming undone, and Allison is in the back seat laughing at something Scott is whispering in her ear.

She doesn’t want to jinx it, but - Real or not real?

Then Stiles folds his fingers over hers, and all she can think is how warm and soft he is, and how there is heat spreading over her skin. Everything feels perfect.

Except it’s not.

The scratching alongside the jeep is loud, and she covers her ears. Stiles swerves and swears. Allison is holding onto the back of her seat, shouting something over the screech of claws on metal.

_Did you bring the flower, Lydia?_ Peter Hale sneers. Like she’d fall for that again.

_Screw you, I’m not screaming_ she thinks just before he drags her through the open window, her braid tangled in his fist.

His teeth find the vein in her arm, and it burns.

She screams then.

Stiles is running towards her, a bruise on his cheek (and his hair is short again), but it is getting dark, and he’s far away.

2.

There is no sunlight.  No Scott, no Allison.  _No Stiles_.  Just this – restraints, and needles and strange hands, and she can’t scream even if she wants to.  

3.

It is Stiles pushing her hair behind her ear when she opens her eyes. And all she can think about is how dirty and dull it is now until she sees his red-rimmed eyes and his deathly pale skin.  Her heart thumps to life in terror.  This can’t be happening again.  That _thing_ is locked away and buried.  And they don’t talk about it – ever.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Stiles whispers, and it is him, despite the haunted look.

She wants to ask what is happening, why he looks like that other Stiles, but he is scooting under the covers next to her, and the comfort of his touch puts a lump in her throat.  Even though she’s suspecting, he’s not real.

“Do you remember?” he asks taking her hand, twining their fingers under the thin blanket.  “What to do?”

She doesn’t. “When you’re going through hell,” he prompts.

It’s that thing he likes to say when he’s scared.  She remembers. “Keep going,” she finishes, the words raw in her throat.

He presses a kiss to her temple. “Please keep going,” he says.

4.

Keep your hands up. Push back. Use your elbows. Throw your weight into it. Scream.

It’s a litany of things Jordan Parrish has said; it’s memories her muscles have been trying to make. 

The water falls down her back, and she contemplates when - how soon to make a move. Being helpless, weak, knocked down, dragged around, bitten, and used sucks ass. And it hurts. And she’s so tired of hurting and being afraid.

“Oh jeez,” Stiles says turning around quickly. She moves to cover herself, but Eichen House - so there’s nothing until the nurse comes. 

“Its fine,” she sighs, because really, he’s seen her naked before, although it's different now. They might both be blushing if things weren’t so fucked, "but you shouldn’t be here, that awful nurse will be back soon.”

“I don’t care about that,” he says his back to her still. “Lydia we’re coming to get you out of here, but I don’t know if it will be in time.”

“You’re coming?” she asks hopeful and disbelieving, “And Scott, the others?” Her voice cracks then, and she wants to laugh or maybe cry.

“We’re trying, but Lydia you’re going to have to fight. Just in case we’re late.”

5.

She starts at the end of the list and screams.  For once it feels good, her own voice hurtling through her lungs and shattering glass. 

Her muscles remember, even if her limbs are weak.  She thinks of promises and memories and futures and forces herself forward. She keeps going, because this is hell.

She’s fully expecting Scott and Stiles when she gets outside. Or maybe Kira and her sword, but it’s Aiden instead (and he’s right to blame her for being dead).  

Brutal hands hold her tight, and maybe this doesn’t end well.  But she’s going to fight anyway.

Her head is throbbing, and her throat is sore, and she doesn’t have to wonder, this part is real.

Then a shot rings out, and she’s unceremoniously dropped onto the wet concrete.  Chris Argent is moving fast and she doesn’t wonder how he knows or why he’s come, only that - of course because the good guys always do.

Then Stiles is careening towards her, well-worn flannel in blue and panic skittering across his face. 


End file.
